


All Shook Up

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [8]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jedikiah became a geneticist for his brother, so that Roger could someday be safe. John is going to help him accomplish that goal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Shook Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



The Science Department looks like it was designed by time travelling inquisitors. Everything is dark, grim and unforgiving, with futuristic elements not only looking out of place, but out of … well, time.

Jedikiah never really paid attention to the interior design before, but standing by John’s side while they’re waiting for the doctors to prepare the syringe, he doesn’t really have anything else to do.

Granted, he could look at John. But he’s already noticed the tense line in his shoulders, as well as the slightly frightened look in his eyes, and it reminded him of why he usually stays away from practical implementations of scientific theories.

Jedikiah’s not what you would call a compassionate person. He doesn’t easily empathize. With anyone. But John’s eyes are incredibly communicative, and they transport his feelings far more proficiently than Jedikiah could wish.

He’s placed his right hand on John’s shoulder, and he’s keeping close to John, trying to give as much comfort through physical proximity as he can. John has always reacted well to that, and the course their relationship has recently taken only promotes this kind of behaviour. The few odd looks they are receiving are easy to ignore.

He’d only wish they’d hurry up, get it over with. Having to wait makes it somehow worse – not only for John, but for Jedikiah as well. He wants to see how John will react to the drugs this time, what side effects will emerge, if they’re on the right track.

Roger has refused to have any part in the research process, to even know who the participating test subjects are, and while Jedikiah’s not precisely surprised by his brother’s lack of backbone, he is a bit annoyed by it.

Jedikiah has never explicitly _told_ him that he developed the program for his benefit, but Roger can not possibly be so obtuse that he doesn’t know. They talked about Jedikiah’s lack of patience for a mutation that leaves its victims a race of fascinating circus attractions _who can not defend themselves_. They talked about it until they were both blue in the face.

Roger claims it does not bother him, that he still considers himself a relatively normal part of society, doesn’t feel threatened or helpless at all. Sometimes Roger can be infuriatingly naïve.

Jedikiah’s thoughts are interrupted by Doctor Kennex coming up to them with the syringe in his hand and an expression of terminal indifference on his face. Jedikiah has to stop himself from glaring at the man. Doctor Kennex is not the problem. At least he’s being a professional about this.

“You okay?” he asks John, his lips dangerously close to the shell of his ear, and he can feel the answering shiver in John’s body through the hand still resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” John lies. “I’m good.”

John has always been a profoundly bad liar. It actually makes Jedikiah smile. “Well, you will be,” he murmurs encouragingly. “I’ll make sure of that.”

John turns his head at the words, looks up at Jedikiah and tries to smile back. Jedikiah squeezes his shoulder. “Relax. The new formula looks extremely promising.”

And it does. What it doesn’t look, though, is painless. Some of the components are extremely … aggressive.

Doctor Kennex puts the syringe to John’s neck, and John closes his eyes. Jedikiah doesn’t. He keeps his gaze fixed onto the point where the needle breaks John’s skin, watches the syringe empty itself into John’s body.

“Okay,” he hears himself say. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

John takes a deep breath and keeps still, his eyes widening, while Doctor Kennex puts an actual bandaid over the tiny puncture wound below his left ear. He doesn’t normally do that, Jedikiah suspects.

“I’m taking Mr Young back to his room,” he says, his voice firm, authoritative. “I will monitor his reaction to the serum.”

“Of course, Doctor Price,” Kennex says, boredom lacing his words. “You do as you wish.”

One day Jedikiah might actually shoot the man, if only for his lack of respect.

“Can you walk?” he asks John, gives his shoulder another squeeze.

“I’m fine, so far,” John answers. “The reaction hasn’t kicked in, yet. Usually takes a few minutes … or hours.”

“Yes, I remember.” Jedikiah watches John slide off the medical examination table and makes a mental note to get the boy some new jeans. They are getting too short around the ankles.

All the other kids regularly request new clothes, but of course not John. No, John wears his until they fall off his body. Sometimes literally.

“Do I have to go right to bed, again?” John asks him once they’re out on the floor and on their way towards his room. “I’m feeling fine, right now, and the last time was – well, it was a bit boring, at first, me not being able to sleep and you reading your book.”

“Are you complaining about my bedside manner?” Jedikiah asks back, his left eyebrow slightly lifted. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“No!” John hastens to assure him, his head whipping around, the look on his face downright mortified. “Your bedside manner is … great. Really great.”

Then he blushes so furiously, it forces a chuckle out of Jedikiah. “Okay,” he says, the smirk audible in his voice. “What do you want to do until you actually _need_ to lie down?”

He doesn’t mean to turn the words into an innuendo, but John’s blush intensifies nevertheless, and suddenly the air between them feels charged, electrified.

It has been two days since they had sex – at least Jedikiah considers it sex, he doesn’t know if John does, young men so rarely do when it doesn’t involve penetration, even if they are as sensitive as John is – and Jedikiah would lie if he said it wasn’t satisfactory, that he does not think back and get aroused.

He just doesn’t know if they should make a regular occurrence out of it. But if the way John is looking at him right now is anything to go by, he might not have much choice in the matter.

(Well, of course he has a choice. He has all the choice in the world. He could say no, and that would be that. John would never pressure him, say anything, push himself on him. Instead, John would blame himself, read all the wrong things into it. And Jedikiah chooses to not let him do that.)

So he puts his arm around John’s shoulders, pulls him in until their hips are pressing up against each other while they walk. John remains quiet on the way to his room, but as soon as they have reached it, as soon as Jedikiah has closed the door behind them, he turns around and looks at Jedikiah with an expression on his face that is almost … regretful.

“I didn’t mean to,” he starts, and Jedikiah lifts an eyebrow. “I would never … dare to suggest that you … that we …”

Ah. There it is. John is already blaming himself for everything, and they didn’t actually do anything. Yet.

“John,” Jedikiah says, and he doesn’t even have to try very hard to infuse his words with fondness. “It’s okay. I did mean to. I suggested. I was flirting with you.”

For a few seconds, John is just standing there, in the middle of the small room, his arms hanging by his sides, his face open and vulnerable.

Then a small smile dawns on his features, making him look bashful and mischievous at the same time. “You were?”

That look does something to Jedikiah. He’s just glad John’s not aiming it at him through his lashes.

“I was,” he confirms, his voice slightly hoarse. “But I will stop, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

John just … he doesn’t so much throw himself at Jedikiah, as fall all over himself to get as close as possible as fast as he can. It’s endearing and heart warming and, although Jedikiah can not for the life of him explain why, sexy.

He’s already aiming for a kiss even before John angles his face up at him, and his arms have circled around John the second he was close enough.

If he didn’t know better, Jedikiah would say that he’s in a bit of trouble.

But he does know better. He knows that he’s in sole control of the situation, knows every button he needs to push for John to do exactly as he wants.

Luckily for John, all he wants to do right now is kiss the boy.

He buries his right hand in the hair at the nape of Johns neck, gets a gentle grip on him and keeps him close. The way John immediately opens his mouth for him, lets his tongue in and moans against his lips goes straight to Jedikiah’s cock.

He tries to calm John down, keep the kiss chaste rather than downright dirty, but John is so eager, so enthusiastic and reckless, that Jedikiah is sitting on the bed with John in his lap before he’s aware of them moving.

The warm weight on top of him feels exhilarating, and Jedikiah licks deeper into John’s mouth, pulls him deeper into his lap. John spreads his legs immediately, ruts against him without any restraint – and then he stills. Whimpers.

Jedikiah had almost forgotten about the drug trials, that he’s supposed to be _monitoring_ , but he remembers now.

He breaks their kiss, slowly withdraws a few inches, scans John’s frozen features. “Drugs kicking in?”

“Yes,” John whispers, white as a sheet, “with spikes on their shoes.”

Jedikiah appreciates the attempt at a joke, he really does, but John looks awful. “Is this worse than the first time?” he asks, his voice as low as possible, the words as soft as he can make them.

“So much worse,” John whispers back.

Jedikiah feels himself wince in sympathy, although he has no idea how John is feeling, not the slightest.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Lets get you horizontal.”

He doesn’t know if movement will make things worse, if his touch is hurting John, so he tries to be as gentle as he can, moves slowly and deliberately.

By the time he has John flat on his back, tears are leaking out of the corners of his closed eyes, down his pale face, and into the pillow.

“I’m so sorry,” he hears him whisper – and for a few, frozen seconds he has absolutely no idea what John could possibly be sorry for.

Then it dawns on him.

“Oh, John,” he whispers, leans forward and kisses Johns temple. “Don’t. It’s okay.”

They both know he can’t give John anything for the pain, that one of the new components would render any pain-killer ineffective, useless. It was one of the reasons why John was so afraid of today’s session.

“Can I do … anything, to make you feel better?” Jedikiah asks, his mouth close to John’s ear, the words barely audible to himself.

“S-stay,” John mumbles, sounding weak and sick, the tears thick in his voice.

“Of course.” Jedikiah is almost indignant, has to fight the hot, angry feeling in his chest. As if he would leave now. “Anything else?”

“Can’t ask … anything else … of you.” It sounds as if it hurts John just to _talk_ , and Jedikiah decides to have some words with Doctor Kennex as soon as possible. He might have implied that pain was something that was to be disregarded for this drug trial, but he never told the man to cook up a torture device.

“Do you want me to get you more comfortable?” he asks, drags his fingers through John’s hair, carefully, gently. “… To hold you?”

For a few seconds, John’s ragged breath is the only sound in the room. He doesn’t open his eyes, he doesn’t look at Jedikiah, but in the end, he nods.

The fact that he doesn’t verbalise his consent leads Jedikiah to apply it to both parts of his question. He gets John out of his Jeans, but lets him keep the t-shirt, then he undresses himself. He won’t get into bed with John in his suit. He just won’t. Not only is it uncomfortable, it would also wrinkle the expensive fabric.

He lifts the comforter wearing only his shorts and undershirt. The bed is rather too small for the both of them to lie in comfortably, but this is not about comfort. Not in the usual sense.

“You must tell me if I hurt you,” Jedikiah murmurs while he pulls John into his arms, and half on top of him, “if I’m making things worse.”

John stays silent for so long that Jedikiah starts to believe he did not hear him.

“Not worse,” he grits out then, breathless, weak, and presses his face into Jedikiah’s shoulder, buries his fingers in the front of Jedikiah’s undershirt. Minutes pass.

Jedikiah feels John twitch against him, hears him whimper in pain. He doesn’t really know what to do with himself. He doesn’t like the sensation in his chest that feeling and hearing these things evokes.

But then John turns his head to the side, and Jedikiah can feel him breathe against his neck, and he closes his eyes. He’s got this. This is why he stayed with John, after all. To help him through the pain, so John would not quit the program. There’s no reason to feel uncomfortable, he’s where he’s supposed to be.

And after he’s placed his hands under John’s t-shirt instead of on top of the fabric, after he’s gotten used to the twitching and the whimpering, he’s able to relax, do his job. He strokes John’s naked back, murmurs quiet words of encouragement into his ear.

He can actually feel it, when John finally falls asleep. The pain does not leave him, not even then, but he does not cling to Jedikiah quite so desperately, and his breaths lose the little hitch at each intake.

Jedikiah sighs, splays his fingers wide at the small of John’s back. He feels exhausted, tired to the marrow of his bones, but wired and wide awake at the same time. He knows he can’t sleep now. Every unconscious move could jostle John and wake him. He cannot risk that.

So he stays awake. It’s not even that hard – John’s warm weight on him being a sufficient distraction, his regular breaths something to pay attention to, to monitor.

It is a job Jedikiah took on for his cause, for his brother, and he’s getting good at it.


End file.
